


The Fae of Traditions

by DramatistArtisan



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fae AU, Religious stuff, abbess reader, fae au created by 1V1, fae valerius, using my one year of western civilization class for this lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramatistArtisan/pseuds/DramatistArtisan
Summary: His name is Valerius, only Valerius. The title of the fae is Fae of Traditions and second to the warring fae Lucio. This fae of high standing in his society found interest in you, you are only one from the church in your small town not liking to elevate into this twisted, gluttonous, image of raising to a priesthood. Taking the role of Abbess seriously, sharing and recording the teachings of the church-hood long ago, doing your best to keep the nuns in line. You care for your people, strangers who pass through and hold the Gods’ name up in honor.You are different, special, a rare wonder this fae felt he must keep to himself.





	The Fae of Traditions

The definition of a fae is one you never learned, why bother when you believe them to be the idea of fairy tales. Fae should be fairy tales, a story told to be spoken by old people or by those on the streets trying to make a coin. In all honesty, the stories are not as ‘exciting’ as those of vampires, ghosts, or werewolves, most of the stories were romantic too… Ack! Of course, after being taken by one, tricked by one, forced to enduring being sickeningly treasured by the fae. His name is Valerius, only Valerius. The title of the fae is Fae of Traditions and second to the warring fae Lucio. This fae of high standing in his society found interest in you, you are only one from the church in your small town not liking to elevate into this twisted, gluttonous, image of raising to a priesthood. Taking the role of Abbess seriously, sharing and recording the teachings of the church-hood long ago, doing your best to keep the nuns in line. You care for your people, strangers who pass through and hold the Gods’ name up in honor.

You are different, special, a rare wonder this fae felt he must keep to himself. It is shameful that his words of such brought dusk of blush upon your face when he spoke behind the fairy ring. “I am a woman of the cloth, sir,” Stepping back, “I am to remain a virgin to my Gods.”

“Such luck your Gods have to be able to delight in such a beauty as you.” Eyes looking you over without shame likely undressing you.

“Uh,” You take in a deep breath to calm yourself praying away the unclean thoughts plaguing your mind. “It is beyond physical, sir.” Doing your best not to offend the powerful being. “We are to represent the virgin that bore the child of the First who granted us life.”

“I see.” His hand reached out still behind the circle, “ _ Why don’t you explain this religion to me further, hm?”  _ Is this how the first fell? A few sweet words with a hand reached out to catch you when you fall, so tempting with a face like him with a humble smile.

“We can speak here!” Quick to reply. “I will be sure to visit with some copies of our literature.” Even though you do-- Did not believe in the tales of faes, you did find wisdom in them.

Yet, the tiny information you took from the cautionary tales did not save you completely.

 

A name holds a lot of power to the faes, more than you ever knew.

 

“Abbess (Name), how lovely you are.” A name binds, holds, pulls apart, and takes. He bound you to him, held your face like a fragile vase, pulls apart habit from your head, takes your first kiss. You felt helpless, a mysterious weight on you as he takes your untouched lips, tongue exploring where you eat food. “My pure maiden, my delight to steal from this realm.” Staring up at something as close to a God you will ever see without aging like the man in a story who dared take a glimpse of a God. Pulling away quickly stepping backward grabbing your habit, the back of your arm wiping your mouth, “You trickster!” Yelling at him before turning to run away, body meeting a solid mass. A wall, a wall covering in ceremonial cravings. “You will release me this instant, fae!” Turning around with a finger pointed at him up into his personal space, more afraid of leaving your abbey without a leader than your own safety.  **_The Gods will protect you or take you into their arms._ **

“This is not how your situation goes, my abbess. You presented your name to me thus yielding yourself to me.”

“I did not give you--”

“You did.” Hand moving your hand out of his face. “You should have been more careful.” Stepping back with you attempted to slap him across the face, hand grabbing your wrist guiding your body to fall to the floor as if you tripped. “Do be careful, Abbess. I do not wish for you to be broken so soon.” Pleased, acting as if he holds all the cards. He knows it, so do you. You cling to your habit as he walks away, magic pulling you like a dog on a collar.

* * *

 

When you were a simple priestess, your Abbess always put in her two cents about your ‘rough’ upbringing, making it appear that you will never be more than a street rat. When she stepped down as the Abbess to leave after corruption within the upper ranks was tracked to her, you wanted to laugh. You did not, however, taking her title and allowing the local authorities to charge her for her crimes. It was a step to bring faith back into the church, a mile long stairway you readily walked with only the idea, the mindset, to restore not faith in the church but in the Gods. The church is a form of ‘middle man’ helping spread the words of the Gods to the people willing to listen.

“Indeed, you practice what you preach, sweet Abbess,” Reading over the many papers you have brought to him as promised upon the first meeting. You should have not have returned to that place, yet, you could not deny a person, fae or not, to the words of your Gods. It is, never will be was, your job to spread messages of the Gods to all those no matter who or what they are… Even him. He stores them away with other scrolls and books in his library. “I keep many religious works here.”

“Do you ever more than keep them? Why keep them?”

“Often time kills knowledge. I collect these to escape such an atrocious faith much like how I am keeping you here.”

“Me? But I am only one person.”

“True, yet you are the first of your people to take the words you deliver to your congregation and put it on paper. Long ago that was both forbidden along with punishable by death.”

You swallow touching your neck recalling the old laws of the church. “I know.”

“Abbesses are becoming a title of the past soon to be lost like other traditions and laws ahead of its time.” He moved from behind his wooden desk, strangely simple and plain, stands before you, “Your fate would have been met by the cruelty of your kinds greed and pride.”

You glare at him, “And how would you know such things? You are only a fae who reads these books for what? Entertainment and believe you know my kind? Bah!” Scolding him and scoffing at him.

“History is often linear with many repeats. Learn that now.”

“So do tell me all that you have learned from your reading so tell other-- Oh, wait!  **I fucking can’t!** ”

Eye twitches at your fowl disrespectful language. “I’m here just for you to pick my brain.” Sadness kicking in to show him the consequences of his actions… Rather you want to guilt trip him.

“For the moment: No you cannot return home to your home.”

That… Moment? Brightening up at his words knowing that you will not remain here forever!

“A hundred years here will provide enough time for you to study and I require your knowledge.”

“Do I have your word?” Mumbling nervous about messing up your chances of freedom. A raised eyebrow followed by a nod. “Your word, fae.”

“My word.”


End file.
